In the Still of the Night
by Harlot of Loyola
Summary: SLASH Dinobot Island. Grimlock, Snarl, Sludge, and Swoop. Fluff.


Another training day on Dinobot Island was drawing to a close with the first peeping dusk stars, and Grimlock considered his options for the night.

"Swoop!" He shouted. "Me choose you now, want Swoop snuggles!"

The robot pteranodon shrieked with glee, circled the jungle canopy and crash-landed/ crash-glomped his commander. "Swoop happy," he smiled. "Want snuggles too. All Swoop's friends doing mating thing." He pointed skywards, where his fleshy brethren wooed and battled for supremacy in a flurry of beaks, slime, and membranous wings.

"Why Grimlock no choose Slag!?! Slag better-looking!" complained the tricerotops.

"Ughh…and why no Sludge? Sludge bigger. More to hug. More to snuggle," added the Dinobot-formerly-known-as-a-bronto.

Snarl paid them no mind and adjusted his spine fins to catch the last of the sun's fading rays. He hated the cold night air. Snarl was always cold.

"Grimlock want Swoop tonight," Grimlock repeated. "No want to get squashed tonight. Grimlock tired from exercise."

"No!" said Slag. "Slag fight Swoop. Winner get Grimlock!"

"Sludge fight Swoop too." added Sludge.

Swoop darted uncertainly behind Grimlock's bulk.

"Why not Slag cuddle Sludge?" suggested Grimlock.

"Sludge stupid!" roared Slag.

"Slag mean!" whimpered Sludge.

"Oh yeah? Sludge meaner!"

…and so it continued well into dusk.

Without a word, Snarl trudge off to his favorite mud hole. Nothing like a good coat of muck to insulate his fins from the chilly air. Such discussions bored him.

Later that night, Snarl basked in the muddy slime. Occasionally a bubble would plop on the brackish surface—gasses released from one of the Island's countless subterranean vents. He shifted on his side, nostrils inches above the mud, and rumbled contentedly. _This_ was paradise, this pool of sulfur and bog; he didn't understand how the other Dinobots could bother to couple when they could be lying in a hot, smelly pool of rotting organics and stagnant water. No two pools were alike; each had its own stench and composition, depending on whatever had last died and decomposed there; each pool was a delightfully unique experience.

Snarl was distracted from contemplating this pool's particular aroma- a mixture of dead raptor, lilies, and ammonia with a faint bouquet of wombat—by a large form splashing into the water.

"Slag!" Snarl cursed. It was indeed the triceratops.

"…Me Sludge here, too." A long neck peaked over the pool's edge.

"What you two guys doing here? Go away! This Snarl's mud!"

"Me Sludge lonely. Want snuggle. Slag no snuggle Sludge, so Slag ask Snarl for snuggle."

"No! Me no want---!"

Snarl tried to slap the larger Dinobot with his tail, but when Sludge made up his mind, it was easier to move Omega Supreme. Snarl gave up and started to leave the pool when another large form appeared on his opposite side and sandwiched him between itself and Sludge's flank.

"Me Slag like this. No want snuggle Sludge, but okay if snuggle Snarl in middle."

"No want snuggles!" Snarl flailed, but he was stuck. The larger bots didn't move. They seemed to have drifted off into recharge mode. Snarl resigned himself and settled back into his mud hole, which was now annoyingly cramped. Still, the warmth emanating from the bodies on either side of him wasn't unpleasant. Almost…nice.

A few minutes later he was again interrupted by a shriek from above and a heavy rumbling on the ground. It could only mean one thing—or rather, two things. Snarl groaned.

"Hiya guys!" Swoop landed on Sludge's back. "Nice pool! So warm! So stinky!"

"Me Grimlock and Swoop finish snuggles. Now, time to snuggle everyone." Grimlock wedged himself into the pool, transformed into robot mode, and leaned against Snarl's nose.

"Hurrah!" cheered Sludge.

Slag fired a round of tiny flames, igniting the few branches dry enough to catch fire, and bathed them all in a silvery glow of heat and light.

Snarl burrowed as far as he could into the muddy bottom, while his fellows snuggled—and coupled—and snuggled above him.

Well, at least he wasn't cold.


End file.
